


It Gets Better

by mysterycyclone



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Whump, back in my day we just called it angst, this will possibly be balanced out with a fluff fic at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterycyclone/pseuds/mysterycyclone
Summary: Five survives the worst of her undercover mission.Tom is there to help her pick up the pieces.(S5 mid season spoilers!)
Relationships: Tom De Luca/Runner Five
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	It Gets Better

“I have a bad feeling about this mission,” Tom says. “I think you should cancel it.”

“I can’t cancel a mission, Tom,” Five returns, her signs moving slowly and gently, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Especially not this one. It’s vital. Sigrid can’t be allowed inside that lab.”

Tom frowns, clutching her hand tightly, almost desperately. “Vital, yes, but--”

“It needs to be done, and I can’t send anyone else in my place.”

“You’ve barely recovered from the last one.”

“But I _have_ recovered," Five returns. The frown on his face grows deeper, and Five loses the teasing tilt of her head. "The mission comes first. Janine says this will be the last one for awhile. I’ll come home soon, I promise. Okay?”

Tom pauses, obviously debating on pressing her further, while taking a moment to absorb her words, and listen to her. One thing she loves about Tom is that he will not judge her. When her nightmares strike, and she confesses to the darker part of her life under Moonchild’s control and how much joy it brought her--unasked for joy, but joy all the same--he doesn’t condemn her or fall over himself in a misguided, but sincere attempt to silence her distress. He simply listens, just as he did when she told him why she will forever be Runner Five and will never answer to her old name again.

So few people do that for her these days. It’s what drew her to him in the first place. 

“Be safe, Five,” he says finally, reaching down to lift her hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

She smiles up at him, ducking up to peck his cheek, pressing her hand to his heart for a brief moment before pulling back. 

The stoic expression on his face melts; the stoic De Luca expression shifts into a soft, crooked grin, and a small blush colors his cheeks.

Five loves seeing that blush. She relishes in the sight of it as she moves into the elevator to stand between Peter and Paula.

"Oh, we are _so_ talking about this on the way," Peter mutters to her as the door close.

Five elbows his side with a small huff, earning a grunt and quiet snicker for her trouble. Paula watches them, amused, as the elevator makes its slow ascent back to the surface. It rattles, the lights flickering on and off every now and then. Five wonders when the elevator will finally give up the ghost and lose its lights completely. She’s not looking forward to that, personally.

They reach the surface, and begin to run. Heading for Abel.

It’s the last time she’ll see Tom for weeks.

*** * ***

It was a trap.

She knows why Tom is afraid of the dark now.

Well, she knew before; he explained the sensory deprivation and then rapid overstimulation that took place during his torture. How they would force one and then the other on him, preferring to use their knives only when he was desperate for anything other than darkness. She understands it all too well.

She’s going to kill Steven fucking Sissay for this. Maybe string him up from a tree. Ian’s going to catch his own punishment eventually, too. Sara taught her a few very valuable lessons on the topic of revenge.

Moonchild starts to speak, and Five suddenly wishes the silence had lasted just a tiny bit longer.

*** * ***

Maybe she won’t kill Sissay right away, after all. At least, not yet.

The mission shifts, changes parameters, and Five is running once more, far away from that isolated hut that’s beginning to haunt her nightmares the way shattered ships at sea so often do.

Right now, she’s chasing Tom, only half listening to Sigrid’s commands as she gradually gains on Tom. He’s letting her gain ground; if Tom De Luca did not want to be caught, he would have disappeared into the trees and brush already. Five tilts her head as she passes under a low hanging branch, catching her headset and camera against it. The branch bends, scraping across her face, and snatches it off of her head.

Tom slows just a bit more and Five takes him to the ground. What follows is the most half hearted brawl of Five’s life as they begin to wrestle one another. When they wrestle, Tom grips her hands and twists their bodies around one another, blocking Five from view of Sigrid’s cameras. He turns his head to press his lips to her ear, murmuring, “Stay strong, Five. You’ll be home soon, I promise you.”

The featherlight kiss to her jaw that follows is almost enough to distract her from their fight and ruin the deception. She manages to control herself, and wrestles him out of the leather jacket just as he sprints away. The temptation to follow him is overpowering, and she gives serious thought to abandoning Sigrid to following Tom straight back to Noah. She watches him sprint through the trees, clutching the coat.

And then Owen is there, handing over her abandoned headset and Sigrid speaks, and the temptation disappears. The mission comes first. Always.

She still glances over her shoulder as they head back to Abel.

*** * ***

She witnesses Steve’s torture, just the way she imagined it in that dark hut. It’s not satisfying in the least.

Owen is gone.

The mission is a success.

She dies anyway.

When she comes back, she’s not whole. No one’s allowed to die and come back the same.

She escapes.

*** * ***

Five staggers back into Noah, caught off guard by how _normal_ everything is inside it. The pleasant elevator music, Sam gently speaking to her through her borrowed headset. The atmosphere itself is calming, and friendly, the way Abel used to feel. Before Ian. Before Sigrid. Before some part of her died inside it in Ian’s hellish little obstacle course.

The contrast is striking, dizzying. She leans against the wall of the elevator, heedless of the bloodstains she leaves behind. Her arm and shoulder burn from the bite, dull and constant, and blood seeps from the wound, winding down her arm to drip on the floor. 

She’s never been so tired in her life. She rests her head against the wall and closes her eyes, just for a moment.

There’s a rattling _clang_ and the elevator descends into pitch darkness, startling her out of her half doze and straight into fight or flight. She tenses, suddenly realizing just how _small_ the elevator is, and how it isn’t much bigger than the hut Ian kept her chained up inside--

Sam’s voice brings her back to the present. “Five? Five, you’re okay. Peter’s right outside the doors, he’s prying them open for you right now. Just hang on. Slow down--breathe with me, okay?”

Sam wasn’t in the hut with her. She pauses, holding her breath for a moment, listening the way she did in the hut. She hears things this time. Sam’s constant, soothing chatter, rattling and banging on the elevator doors, and Peter’s venomous cursing on the other side of the doors.

The doors wedge open, and the darkness is filled with the sound of metal grinding against metal. A thin beam of light cuts through the darkness and Five relaxes, just a bit.

“One moment, Five. A damn mouse has chewed through the power cord. Janine’s fixing it as we speak. Everything will come on as soon as--”

There’s a loud _clunk_ , and the power returns, flooding the elevator with light and allowing the doors to open smoothly. She’s through the doors in an instant, shoving Peter out of the way and sprinting past a startled Maxine who calls after her, alarmed by the blood trail Five leaves behind.

Five keeps running. She needs to, after being trapped. She’ll explain that to them later.

*** * ***

Showers aren’t as rare in Noah as they used to be in Abel. Five takes a moment inside the dull, tiled room to cover her eyes and let out a shaky breath. She feels like crying, but can’t quite manage the energy to start. Which is depressing in and of itself.

All she wanted was to come home, and now that she’s here, she doesn’t feel like she belongs. She should still be at Abel, helping the people she left behind. Sneaking them food, or blankets or medicine with Kefilwe and Steve. Now they have one less person looking out for them and helping when they need it most. 

What right does she have coming back to all of this? To Sam and Janine bickering over music. To Jody and Peter joking with one another over a chess game or Maxine and Paula doting on their daughter.

To Tom, who she’s done her level best to avoid since escaping the elevator and giving Janine her mission report. Janine had taken her report with an expression caught between guilt and blatant

Some part of her recognizes that thought as too dangerous to stay focused on at the moment, and she pushes it down and away, focusing instead on cleaning herself (gritting her teeth to withstand the burning ache in her shoulder when she works on her wound) and turning off the water to dry herself off. She stands for a long moment, grounding herself to the sights and sounds of Noah; the freezing tile under her feet, the rattling of the air vents, and the buzzing lights that sometimes flicker when the generator struggles against its load. It works, to some extent; the start of her anxiety attack fades back to a dull growl rather than a full throated roar.

Content that she won’t make a fool of herself in the showers, she leaves the shower room. She isn’t surprised to find Tom waiting for her in the locker room, and she’s even less surprised to see the first aid kit sitting on one of the metal benches beside a perfectly folded set of clothes.

“Dr. Myers thought I would be able to convince you to let me dress your wounds,” he says from the bench. He takes in the sight of her, and a sadness seems to fill his gaze. “Rough work?”

“Worse than I’ve had before,” Five admits, taking off her towel to dress in the clothes he brought her. Peter’s spare sweatpants, Sam’s faded orange hoodie, and thick socks obviously made by Jody. They’re all well worn, clean, and don’t smell anything like the rot that set into the running clothes she wore while escaping Abel. 

Tom gently stops her before she can pull on the hoodie and starts to work on her shoulder. He cleans and wraps the wound expertly, despite its awkward location. His hands rest on her side when he finishes, and his thumb idly traces the line of her ribs, now visible through the muscle after her captivity. Five fights back a shiver, pressing into his hand. She doesn’t eat when she’s stressed, and the full banquets Ian enjoyed at Abel while people she’s known for years starve just down the road was too much to bear.

“Jane has you off duty for the next two weeks,” he says, finally pulling his hands back and allowing her to pull on the hoodie. “Maxine’s suggestion. There are a lot of nasty infections borne from bite wounds.”

Five nods, fidgeting with the edge of the hoodie. It’s frayed, and worn thin in some places, but it’s the most comfortable thing she can wear at the moment. Tom reaches in and gently takes her hands into his own, squeezing them until she looks up to meet his eyes.

There’s warmth and understanding there. “Stay with me tonight, Five.”

That’s new territory. Tom has his own personal room, a safe place where he can separate himself from the others at Noah and tend to himself. There are weeks where he barely leaves it, only allowing Janine, Jody, or Five inside to talk, and sometimes not even then. 

“You might need some time away from the others for a few days. I know the nightmares after an undercover mission can become particularly vivid.”

Five traces the scars that cross the back of his hands. Finally, she nods.

“I think I need to be close to you.”

“Then I’ll stay close.”

*** * ***

He’s right about the nightmares. 

Five dreams of the dark. Of Steve’s screams. Owen’s body. The starved down forms of people she’s known for years watching her with sadness and fury burning in their eyes.

A zombie sprints from the dark, grabs her, and Five is too _slow_ , she can’t fight it off--

She snaps awake, breathing hard, tense and shaking. It takes her a moment to shake off the nightmare, and a moment later to realize where she is.

She’s in Tom’s room, curled up beside him on his bed. There are dim lamps placed in each corner, giving the room enough light to see by. The blankets are tangled around her legs, and shakily pulls them free, reaching up to rub her eyes and sigh.

“Five?” Tom says. She can feel his hand hover above her arm, and feel him behind her.

She leans back into his chest in answer, pushing herself back. He wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her protectively. He nuzzles the crook of her neck, breathing her in, and kisses her shoulder, careful of jarring her wound. She’s still tense, still twitchy, but she can feel the beat of his heart against her back, and the weight of his arms around her helps ground her, pulling her back from the edge of...something. She’s not sure what.

“Five?” he asks again. His voice is whisper soft, and his breath is warm on her neck. She presses back against him more firmly, then turns over and simply buries her face against his chest, clinging to him. Tom hums, holding her. “I should have come for you.”

Five shudders, shaking her head and clinging to him tightly for a moment. Finally, she leans back to sign, “I wouldn’t have left. The mission comes first.”

Tom’s answer is a slight frown. He pulls her back into the embrace, reaching up to tug her hair out of its braid and run his fingers through her hair. Five stays tucked against his chest, gradually relaxing, bit by bit. They stay like that for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

Five knows how to hear the words left unspoken. 

_I’m sorry you suffered. I’m sorry you understand why I fear the dark. I’m sorry you push yourself too hard and sacrifice so much._

“So am I,” Five replies, gently tapping out her response along his back.

“It gets better,” Tom whispers. “I promise you that. Not quickly, but it does get better.”


End file.
